


NSFW Alphabet

by whiskey_bumblebee



Category: BlacKkKlansman (2018), Marriage Story - Fandom, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:41:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25271035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskey_bumblebee/pseuds/whiskey_bumblebee
Summary: Collection of my writing for the NSFW Alphabet, updated as I write new letters, not necessarily uploaded in order :) Heed the warnings in the notes for each chapter. Not all letters will be done for all characters!
Relationships: Flip Zimmerman/Reader, Flip Zimmerman/You
Kudos: 11





	1. F: Charlie Barber

**Author's Note:**

> Mentions of being "animalistic", neediness, NSFW
> 
> (Their animalistic qualities in the bedroom)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW, Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)
> 
> ellelaconi asked:  
> Would you be so kind to do F for our Charlie? pls pls pls xo

Charlie needs you close.

He needs you close so he can hear the soft sounds you make just for him, that have to be oh so quiet so nobody else knows. He needs you close so he can hide his face into your shoulder if he starts crying from everything or nothing at all. 

He needs you close so there’s no way his mind can wander.

He needs you close so he knows he has you. You’re both so wrapped up in a blanket of things- emotion, love, pleasure, each other. 

You need to be close so you can see the dark speckles in his irises.

You need to be close so you can feel his breath on your cheeks and not care that he’s been drinking coffee after 4pm.

You need to be close because you’ve been apart for so long, why should you have distance now? If he can have every inch of your bodies touching, why would he want to hover over you, or not see your face. 

He’ll take you in the tub, on the bed, on the couch when you distract him from the news and almost make him spill the beer he’d been holding. 

He can press his nose up against yours and kiss you as much as he wants.He can look at the little crease between your eyebrows that happens when you close your eyes and cry out. 

You love the way your nipples rub against his chest, the friction, even as it becomes overwhelming. His cock feels like it must be up in your chest somewhere, how it rubs up against you in all the right places, all the places.

He catches you as you fall backward, your weight shifting as you let your body snap like an elastic band and fly towards the stars.

Your neck is in just the right place for his teeth as he cries out too, pleasure and relief and love flowing through him like some delicious concoction.

He loves that you don’t untangle yourself right away, don’t complain of sweat sticking and itching or the feeling of his come inside you. Loves how you want to stay and have your hair washed and make him an omelette even though it’s a weird time in the evening.


	2. F: Kylo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom/sub tones, F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual) 
> 
> ktellmeastory asked:  
> To give you some Sinday fun! F and I for whatever characters you have the muse for

_**2+ hours, loving, languid** _

You smirked as you rolled over, your hair tickling Kylo’s chest in a way that made him sigh like _that._ He breathed your name.

“How much time do you have before you have to be on the bridge?” 

It was an odd hour where the night cycle began to blend into the morning one. You were awake and what could you say, you planned on being that way for a while.

He groaned and gestured to the chronometer on the wall, draping his arm over his eyes and refusing to be properly aware yet. “I have to be there at 5, how long do we have?”

“Four hours.”

He sat up straight then, pulled you into his lap and kissed you over and over. You’d brushed your teeth before you decided to tease him, knowing all too well how you both wanted things to go.

You broke away from the kiss and leaned back to keep him from latching right back onto you, smiling as he did exactly as you’d predicted he would.

The soft thud of your nightgown on the floor made him smile, and he reached out and traced his finger over the angles of your face. 

“On your back,” He whispered. 

You rolled over, hair splaying over the satin pillows, cushions under you like clouds bringing you up to his touch. He settled over you like a storm over mountains in the tropics, humid and electric, pressed so close together that you merged into each other.

_(missionary)_

_**an hour or less, need it now** _

A supply closet, a conference table, an interrogation table, a refresher, anything he could bend you over was fair game.

It didn’t have to be soft, it didn’t have to be comfortable, not when you’d be done so soon. That didn’t stop him from kissing at your hips afterwards, checking for bruises and arranging for bacta patches to be sent to your quarters.

He’s obsessed with your back, how you bend and breathe and shudder and moan. Whether or not he’s got a tight fist of your hair, he loves that too, how it sticks to your back or how you try to keep it a little bit tidy.

Your hips and ass never cease to earn a stare from him either. 

_(doggy style/bent over something)_

**_less than ten minutes, quicker than quick_ **

“Get on your fucking knees.”

His cock is down your throat without a second thought by either of you. Your technique goes to waste here, and that saddens him, that you can’t take your time with those practiced combinations of your lips and your tongue.

That sadness doesn’t last long and his head thuds hard against the wall behind him, so hard you glance up for a moment to check he’s okay, mouth still stretched out around him. Your eyes meet and he shouts, swears. 

That’s it, he’s done for, he’s gone, he’s floating and he’s glad he’s got a wall behind him, even if it’s wet with his sweat. Even now, he’ll press a kiss to your lips before he’s tucked back into his pants and heading out the door with a blasé _“dinner at seven?”_

Because when you’re so good for him, he’ll always treat you like a Princess as soon as he can. And of course, that includes returning the favor.

_(idk what this position is called, basic blowjob??)_


	3. I: Kylo Ren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect… )

During the first few months of your relationship, Kylo doesn’t really know how to be intimate during sex. In all aspects of his life, he’s goal-oriented and at first, the sex is no different. 

Why should he need to soften or love when he could just finish?

Things change when he realizes he wants to stay the night, or wants you to stay with him on the rare occasion he grants you access to his quarters. 

He looks at you one night, right after he’s finished and has made sure you have too. For the first time he sees how you curl in on yourself, providing the comfort you’re subconsciously craving. Especially when he’s rough, he starts to become aware of his instinct to be gentle with you.

The next time he fucks you, he holds eye contact a little longer than he had before, pulls you a little closer. All of a sudden, you’re coming harder and faster than ever before, shaking and breathing hard.

He comes unexpectedly with a sharp exhale and swears under his breath, spurred on by your own orgasm. 

When he leaves to the refresher, you assume he’s just going to shower then lie beside you unemotionally as he always does. He calls out for you to stay, returns with a washcloth, hands it to you, then brings you a glass of water.

“If you want to shower, you’re welcome to use mine,” He says softly.

He kisses your temple because he’s read that in books, that people kiss that part of their lovers’ heads. His arms twine around you and he’s warm and secure.

He had to learn intimacy, but intensity came naturally.


	4. J: Kylo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> J: jerking off
> 
> anonymous asked:  
> i think you’re requests are still open?! i was jw if i could get the letter “J-jerk off” for either kylo or flip🥺🥺 i love your writing ugh

Your schedules don’t always line up. Sometimes you’re planets apart, sometimes you just aren’t in the mood. 

But as someone who was alone for so long, repressed for so long, Kylo’s technique when it comes to self pleasure is second to none. He knows exactly what he likes, can use the force to help out, focuses solely on his pleasure for once.

Sometimes you watch, like to see what he does, what you can recreate. Other times, when you’re not together, you can feel his need filtering through to you, can tell that he’s getting himself off.

It depends what he’s in the mood for, really, whether he wants to go fast or slow, rough or slightly less rough. Either way, it’s a sight to behold.

Most of the time his knuckles are white as he grips his cock, veins in his hands and arms coming to the surface, offering a visualization of the tension he holds in his body, forearms taut as he breathes heavily.

He isn’t gentle, his fist slapping the very bottom of his abdomen hard enough to bruise if he lasted longer than a few minutes. He’s glad for the small thatch of dark hair there, provides a little bit of cushioning. 

His breaths are choked by now, fighting to keep them measured after years of having to keep quiet. He alters the movement slightly, twists a few degrees just as he comes up to the head, runs his thumb over the top then strokes back down, speeding up until his hand is a blur and he can’t look. head pressed heavy into the pillows behind him, thighs starting to tense up and flex off the bed.

Lost in the pleasure, he can’t do anything but keep going, in these few seconds that stretch like hours, his mind numb to everything but the pulses in his nerves, waiting for the moment of release.

Just like that, the world falls away, crumbles and he starts floating, eyes still pressed tightly shut as he loses the feeling of the back behind his bed. He cries out, feels his hot come splattering across his stomach. There’s a few more moments of that blackness, the nothing, then his eyes blink open and he remembers to breathe.

He’s never sure if he actually levitates off the bed or whether he becomes so focused on his pleasure that he just loses track of his other senses, the stimulation too much for his brain to process.

The cleanup is his least favorite part, but it makes him realize how spoiled he is to have you. To have someone who’ll lick it up, or wipe him off, or accept the feeling of it leaking out from between your thighs. 

This is the part where he misses you the most. 

Everything in his body now tells him to find you, hold you close and drift off to sleep with you in his arms. It hurts when you’re on another planet, or a different part of the ship doing something important. He tucks his face into your pillow and pulls a sheet over himself, thoroughly spent. 

When you creep into bed, you tuck yourself into him, little spoon, and feel him nuzzling into you, pressing kisses to your neck then drifting off again. He can sleep deeply now, knowing you’re safe, feeling you there.

He finds his sleep after getting off is often dreamless, his subconscious energy instead looking forward to waking up with you the next morning. 

~~and if he hasn’t been too rough with himself, well, there’s always time for a round two~~


	5. K: Charlie Barber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
> 
> miraclesabound asked:  
> K for our boy Charlie?

Firstly, I couldn’t find the name for this kink, so I’ll take a sec to describe it- it’s a kink for not being found out, being secretive and sneaky and quiet.

A while after you and Charlie tell your friends that you’re seeing each other, the dynamic of secrecy stays. He’s obsessed with keeping you quiet, and you love the feeling of his palm over your mouth, or how he kisses you when you get a little too breathy.

Something about closing and locking the door of your bedroom, then being fucked up against it really drove him wild. There was a stark contrast between the desperation you both expressed visually and your ability to keep things almost silent. 

When he wanted to let loose, he’d come over to your place and put on a record. Even then, you were so careful not to let anyone see him leave your apartment. He’d put on his sunglasses and creep down the stairs, and the various noises of the apartment would make the close of the front door silent.

This kink subsided after a few months, mostly for practical reasons, and God it just filled the both of you with pride to hear the other person moan and lose control.

Secondly, roleplay.

As someone who orchestrates people playing pretend as his full time job, Charlie enjoys slipping into a character now and again. 

It’s only ever tongue in cheek, whether you’re playing nurse or begging your professor for an A, and normally ends in a fit of giggles that dissolve into moans as your costumes and props and pretenses fall away. 


	6. T: Kylo Ren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
> 
> anonymous asked:  
> NSFW Alphabet..... T .... Kylo? :) tysm

**On himself:**

He loves cock rings. He’s already spent so much of his life training his stamina and endurance, he sees this as no different. If he can fuck you for four hours instead of two, why not? This goes hand in hand with his love of edging, he’ll fuck you ‘til you can’t see straight and then slip off the cock ring and explode all over your chest with the loudest moans you’ve ever heard out of him.

He also owns sounding rods and a strap on for you to use on him, but he’s still working through the emotional blocks he needs to overcome before he’ll feel comfortable giving up control like that.

**On you:**

He likes the idea of stimulating you in public, but he can just use the force to do this. All his attention would be on you anyway, it might as well be on you for _that_ reason ;)

Aside from that, he doesn’t like using anything other than his cock to penetrate you. This stems from insecurities he has about his own body and performance, so it’s just something you both stay well away from, and it’s not something you’d be particularly interested anyway with how well-endowed he is.

**For both of you:**

Kind of a cop-out answer, but if he can wear a vibrating cock ring while you’re having sex, he’d love that every now and again to add a little extra something. It sends you to the space where your limbs tingle in pleasure and you feel like you’re floating, extra fast. Every now and again when you manage to pry your eyes open, you are actually floating. 


	7. Z: Kylo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Z= animalistic qualities in the bedroom, mentions of being "animalistic" and rough sex
> 
> anonymous asked:  
> I saw this prompt somewhere and I was wondering if you would please do this one for Kylo and Flip? Zoo- what are their animalistic qualities in the bedroom? I love your writing! Thank you!

He’s taut like a wire, all the time. Restraining himself from losing control through endless meetings. He’s not a nine-to-five man, never will be.

All he wants is the rush of battle, the wind in his hair, gritting his teeth as he cuts down enemies like vines. 

So naturally, throughout the day, throughout the week, all that tension builds. Sitting on his hands so he doesn’t snap Hux’s neck, breathing deeply when a subordinate asks him another idiotic question about his ship, his schedule, his training. 

You hear his voice in your head, then, when he starts to count down the hours until he can have a day off with you. 

_I’m not going to be gentle._

It’s your chance to say no, to encourage him to burn that energy working out, doing drills, assure him that you love him but you’ve also had a rough week, but of course, most of the time, you smile and start to prepare.

Leaving a glass of water by the bedside table, a plastic cup of course, so if it shatters it won’t pose a risk to either of you. A towel by the foot of the bed, arranging the pillows at the top of the bed so that when he fucks you so hard you can’t help but slide up the bed, it isn’t a hard wall that you meet.

He throws his boots to the ground and doesn’t bother with the rest, you’ll tear it to shreds if you want to.

Simultaneously, your teeth clack together and his fingers cup the back of your skull so tight, like he’s trying to drink from you.

You’re naked because of course you are, he’d set it on fire just to get it off you faster if he had to. 

Every part of this is animalistic. He snarls and groans, growls and bites, there are no words because they’d make no sense right now. This is deeper than comprehension, deeper than language. 

Unrestrained, finally snapping and letting all the tension in his body piston into yours as you cry out. Tears and sweat become indistinguishable as he slides in and out, every part of this wet, saturated. 

With a broken yell, he buries himself to the hilt and throws his thumb to your clit, and you sing, you sing for him. As you snap, pleasure shooting through every vein, the tension is gone, released into the universe and falling somewhere as confetti, or leaves, or meteors, falling, falling...

Then you’re back, slowly you come back, realize you were the thing that had been launched into the sky and floated back down, weightless. It’s dead silent, but for the panting, the ragged breathing as he calms himself before he faints from a lack of oxygen. His lungs burn, his legs burn, but there you are, under him, glowing like a star, like an angel or something. 

Carefully, you raise your hand to his face, cautious because you don’t want to overwhelm him. You wipe a drop of sweat off his chin, checking in with him more than anything else. 

He nods, he’s fine. He blinks a few times then looks back down between you, his cock going soft, still inside you. You nod and he pulls out gingerly. 

“Food,” you say weakly. You don’t know if it’s been hours or minutes, but you’re positively starving. 

He gestured with his head to the kitchen counter. “You didn’t notice I brought some with me when I got back?”

You laughed and sighed, peeling the sheets away from you as you readied yourself to stand. 

“What can I say, tunnel vision.” 


	8. Z: Flip Zimmerman

Flip just wants to be close to you. Doesn’t matter what day of the week, what season or weather. He can be rough, he can be desperate and needy and all of those things, but he’s animalistic in a different kind of way. 

He’s animalistic in how much he needs you to touch him. A hand on his leg while he’s working from home or reading the paper, your head on his chest so he can fall asleep. He’ll sit between your legs while you’re watching television, has you rub his shoulders, trace over his ears.

“Baby, if you had to sculpt me out of clay from memory, you’d make a more convincing version of me than the real thing. People would get confused.”

He’s tired after a long week, rambling, but you know what he means. 

You slip off the sofa and into his lap, kiss him deeply. His tongue runs over the edges of yours, traces your teeth. He breaks the kiss and pulls his head back to get a better look at you, wants his eyes to focus so you’re not all blurry ‘round the edges. 

His dark eyes seem to go right through you as he stares. You’ve always known he was a fine detective, but with the intensity of that look, you realize how he does so well.

“I love you.” He says firmly. Says it with the same confidence that he’d say any other fact. The year is 1972. Three and two are five. 

You nod, tilt your hips so you can start working on the button of his jeans. 

“I’d do anything for you.”

You nod again, know it’s a fact. 

“I love you too, and I’d do anything for you.”

He reaches down to his zipper and frees his cock, hard from a few moments of being under you. 

You sigh as you lower yourself down onto it, feel him move a little as he plants his feet. The way he looks at you like a shark, or a lion, something about to wholly devour you. You aren’t scared. You’re no prey, if he’s the lion, you’re every inch the lioness. 

His eyes fall closed with a sigh and you run your finger over his eyelashes. He’s right about if you had to sculpt him. You wouldn’t miss a freckle. 

You kiss him softly and he moans into your mouth, breaks away again to mouth down your neck. 

“Let me hear you,” He breathes. “Don’t kiss me ‘til you’ve let me know how good this feels.”

He uses his leverage to fuck you harder, pushing his hips up to meet yours, matching your rhythm and leaving you squirming, seeing stars as your clit meets his pelvis. He hits a spot deep inside you that forces the last dregs of air in your lungs out, a breathy little gasp followed by you sucking down air and chanting his name.

An animal, no doubt, but an animal who was the definition of fierce not for his violence, but for his love.


End file.
